Various Ideas (Harry Potter edition)
by meja9201
Summary: A place for me to put some Harry Potter story ideas. Various crossovers. Mostly very alternate universe. Standard warning applies for poor storytelling, grammar, spelling etc. Most if not all pairings will feature Harry and Hermione.
1. Chapter 1

_Note: I went on a kick where I felt the need to cross my female wizard class character from Diablo 3 with other stories. What's below came from this idea. This is very AU for Harry Potter._

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"Harry Potter"

Dumbledore's voice called out, his gravelly baritone echoing around the great hall. To her right, Harry sat with an incredulous look on his face, a look that slowly morphed into that of sad resignation.

Hermione instinctively reached for his arm as if she could hold him in place and shield him from the madness that Hogwarts seemed to heap upon him every year.

Dumbledore called out again, an edge to his voice now, and the murmuring began. Hermione could hear darkly muttered words, filled with resentment, anger, and in some cases jealousy. She looked over at Ron sitting near Seamus. He was glaring straight ahead, ears turning more red by the second.

Looking back to the object of her concern she could see that Harry was making as if to stand, already accepting his lot. Accepting that this was his life, one deadly, threatening debacle after another. It was infuriating to the young witch.

"Harry wait." Hermione said, increasing her grip on his arm.

"I have a plan but you need to listen to me," Pulling him close she whispered...

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Arinthalasa crouched low, gathering her magical ice armor about herself, the multifaceted shield crystallized around her for a moment, then swept about her feet like a small freezing hurricane with her as the eye. She cast her eyes about the room she found herself in, at the same time bringing forth her wand, Aether Walker in her right hand and her legendary source, Triumvirate spinning with a rainbow hue in her left. The room was dark with sputtering wall torches casting dim guttering light about her. The hard stone floor she stood upon steamed from the massive release of power that had brought her to this place and strange runic markings were carved into the stone. The rune lines were still glittering with power from the obvious summoning ritual some fool had just performed, dragging her from Sanctuary.

Sanctuary. Her adopted home. Thinking of it caused her magic to flair around her, responding to its master's dark mood. She had defeated Diablo's burning hoard, thrown the prime evil from the High Heavens, utterly destroying the last remnant of evil shadowing Sanctuary.

Tyrael had been most grateful, most grateful indeed... Her lips curled up slightly as she remembered just how the fallen angel had chosen to show his thankfulness.

Arinthalasa had thought she could perhaps leave the life of the adventurer. She would of course still smite evil and those doing things that annoyed her, but with the prime evils well and truly destroyed, she had hoped for a somewhat quieter existence.

With a sigh she realized that "quiet life" would never describe her. Arinthalasa was destined to be pulled into conflict no matter her desire. The remnant of a summoning ritual around her was evidence enough of that.

Arinthalasa smiled wickedly, whoever was foolish enough to perform this ritual had gotten more than they bargained for. They had summoned a sorceress who had thrown down the very gods who opposed her. Any here who dared attack her were in for a very nasty surprise.

She turned her head, her blood red battle armour creaking slightly at the movement. She observed that she was in the center of the runic circle, the runes spiraling out from the center to the edges. At the outer edge she spied what looked like a young human girl with absurdly bushy hair, wearing some type of ridiculous robe. The child had collapsed and was half frozen from cold of her ice armour.

Arinthalasa instantly dropped the armour spell, stowed her wand and source and approached the small girl. She was indeed unconscious and shivering. She seemed to be suffering from some type of draining curse as she had no obvious wounds or injury. One of the child's small hands was touching the runic circle that pulsed with power still. Arinthalasa used her magic to let her see the flow of power in the room, and she could see that the circle was draining the poor girl of her magic. Arinthalasa's face contorted in anger, that one so young would risk herself in this fashion was upsetting and spoke ill of the adults in her life... Some smiting would be in order.

With a thought she pulled on her power and severed the child's connection to the circle, then burned the circle away with an absent wave of her hand. She stepped to the girl and brought forth a blood red healing potion from her magic bag of holding and knelt next to the child. She gently lifted her head and poured the magic imbued liquid into her mouth. The child's complexion improved immediately and her eyes began to flutter open. With a start she came fully back to consciousness. Eyes wild she scurried a few feet away from Arinthalasa, her eyes darting around the room. Arinthalasa just let her, she was obviously no threat, and was just as obviously the one who had summoned her. This thought brought some relief, as it was unlikely she had been summoned for some evil purpose if this young child had done so (thrice accursed Belial aside).

Arinthalasa rolled back on her heels trying her best to not look like a god-destroying warrior-sorceress and failing spectacularly. She was well aware of how her beauty and overall presence were perceived by most. Villagers looked upon her as some type of deity, and her deeds and valor didn't help with the hero worship. With a sigh she decided that a direct approach was best; children often respond well to those who took an authoritative tone.

"You there child be still and listen well." The girl's eyes widened but Arinthalasa could tell she didn't understand the language. She absently waved her hand, casting a translation spell on herself that would allow any sentient being to understand her and repeated her statement. The girl obviously understood her that time because she nodded slightly.

"I have three questions," she continued, "First, who are you? Second, why have you summoned me here? Third, where am I?" She finished by letting a little of her power reflect in her amber eyes. A little theatrics sometimes went a long way.

The girl's eyes widened even more at Arinthalasa's display of power but with a deep breath the girl gathered her courage, she licked her lips slightly before answering.

With a clear voice she said, "My name is Hermione Granger. I've summoned you because I'm desperate for help. You are in Hogwarts Castle, specifically the room of requirement." And with that she fell silent again.

Arinthalasa considered the response, she had never heard of a kingdom of Hogwarts, and the girl was obviously a young sorceress but no threat, and she was desperate enough to attempt a summoning ritual that should have been decades beyond her ability and power. If there was one thing that Arinthalasa couldn't pass up, it was helping those in need, especially innocent children. With a grimace she remembered Lea's fate and it must have shown in her face because the girl suddenly blurted, "Please wait! There is a dark wizard plotting to kill the boy I lov… The boy who is my best friend!" Her hands tied themselves in knots in front of her, her eyes were huge and she trembled but didn't back down… Arinthalasa revised her estimation of the girl upward.

"Please," she begged, "do what you like to me, take my life as payment even, but you must help Harry!" With that the girl's courage finally broke and she looked down at her feet with a sob.

Arinthalasa was appalled, what manner of foulness would drive a child to offer herself as sacrifice?

Arinthalasa had been smiting evil since she was younger than the girl in front of her crying. That some heinousness had driven such a pure soul to offer herself in such a manner had her feeling rage she had rarely experienced. Of course she would help.

These thoughts in mind Arinthalasa made an effort to be reassuring. "Child… Hermione, please look at me." To her credit the girl turned her tear streaked face up to Arinthalasa. Arinthalasa banished her armour and conjured a robe similar to the girls, although much more fine, and with a flourish that would have made Snape green with envy, sat cross legged in front of her. The girl seemed to relax and mimicked Arinthalasa by sitting as well.

"My life," Arinthalasa started, "Is dedicated to the destruction of evil in all of its forms. I actively look for people in your situation in order to help them." She reached out and gently took Hermione's hand, trying to calm her more.

"My name is Arinthalasa Kanan Solostaran currently of Sanctuary." Seeing the blank look she continued, her voice rising in magnitude unconsciously. "I recently destroyed Diablo Lord of Destruction and redeemed the High Heavens." Hermione continued to have a blank look on her face, it was obvious that she had never heard of Sanctuary or even Diablo. With a sigh she continued. "In order to most effectively help you and your friend, I need to understand what I'm up against. I could ask for you to explain things to me, but that would probably take a large amount of time and I could misunderstand or misinterpret things yes?"

Hermione nodded in agreement then spoke. "Yes, our situation is very fluid and complex. I sense you have an alternative?"

Nodding decisively Arinthalasa let go of Hermione's hand and reached into a pouch pulling forth a walnut size blue gemstone.

"This is a memory stone. With it, I can view your memories, all of your memories, from your earliest to present in seconds. If you're willing, I will pull your life's story into this stone and then be able to better understand the situation." Arinthalasa scowled, "This is not my prefered method as it is a terrible invasion of privacy. Every thought and emotion will be laid bare to me, you will have no secrets." With that Arinthalasa placed the stone on the floor between them.

Arinthalasa could see the gamut of emotions flow past on the girl, Hermione's face. First is was dismay, then panic and embarrassment followed closely by a resolute fortitude. Arinthalasa was even more impressed.

"I'll do it." She said decisively but then averted her eyes, "Please don't judge me too harshly."

With a small smile Arinthalasa picked up the stone, then levitated it between them at eye level. The stone immediately began to glow with a pale blue light.

"I'm going to pull your memories into the stone now, which will allow me to view them. You may be slightly disoriented for a few moments." And with that Arinthalasa clenched her fist releasing a small amount of her power into Hermione.

The blue light from the stone shot forth hitting both in the forehead. The memories started to flow from girl to woman.

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 _Unexplainable things happening when the child is upset. Healer visits. Tests. Evaluations. Small pills that make everything fuzzy…_

 _Stark classrooms with unfriendly faces. Riding in strange metal carriages. Crying to parents after being hurt by other children…_

 _Her parents looking at the child in fear..._

 _Separation. Punishments..._

 _Pain and Isolation..._

 _Thoughts of death…_

 _Then an owl. Brown with spots. A letter that changes everything..._

 _Magic is real. The child can see her parent are relieved somehow. Less afraid. Things get better for a time..._

 _Strange stores and shops. Wizarding shops… A bookstore! History of magic. Hogwarts a History…_

 _A train ride. A toad. A small boy with broken glasses. A red haired boy who is a fool…_

 _A sorting. Bigots. Mudblood. Classes and a levitating feather. Cruel words..._

 _A bathroom and tears. A horrible smell and terrible crash! The small boy with burning green eyes jumping on a beast, incinerating the creature with wild magic…_

 _A friend..._

 _Harry..._

 _A professor with a turban who makes Harry's head hurt. A stone, a mystery…_

 _Challenges and a riddle. Books and cleverness..._

 _Friendship and bravery..._

 _And Love…_

 _Parting at a train station. Exchanging letters with Harry. Something is horribly wrong at his home..._

 _September 1st. Platform nine and three quarters…_

 _Talking to Harry about his relatives. Tears. Bars on windows. Scars…_

 _Abuse…_

 _A ridiculous fraud as a professor…_

 _Voices, Harry hears voices. A cat. A message…_

 _Dueling. A snake. Parselmagic…_

 _Isolation. Just the child and her Harry. Dark looks and muttering. Heir of Slytherin…_

 _The child is attacked by an arrogant blond boy. Pain. Recovery in the hospital wing._

 _Confrontation! Harry almost kills the blond boy. For the second time the child sees the power in her friend, magic rolls off him in waves. She can't lose him…_

 _Petrifications. Research. A solution…_

 _Looking in a mirror. Terrible yellow eyes. Oh Harry, I'm so sorry…_

 _Waking..._

 _Harry holding the child's hands. He won't look at her..._

 _Wild green eyes tinged with black. A scar on his arm. Basilisk. Phoenix. Tom Riddle..._

 _A child who read a diary is dead…_

 _The headmaster is their enemy…_

 _Summer letters..._

 _The Dursleys..._

 _Sirius Black..._

 _Riding the train. Demons that are so cold it burns. Harry is hurt…_

 _Boggart. Harry sees the child dead and mutilated. He destroys the wardrobe in a rage. He's stunned by the professor…_

 _Mystery Firebolt. The child convinces Harry to turn it into the professor's…_

 _The red haired fool verbally attacks the child. Harry defends her…_

 _Harry learns the Patronus charm from professor Lupin…_

 _Harry can see magic now…_

 _Scabbers is a man. Peter Pettigrew…_

 _Sirius Black is innocent…_

 _Contact. A shack. A werewolf with a potions instructor…_

 _Harry stuns Snape. Lupin flees the moon. Sirius steals a hippogryph…_

 _Dementors attack the child. Harry destroys them with his Patronus. The child will never forget their screams…_

 _Harry is escorted to his relatives..._

 _He escapes and goes to the safe house the child and her family has arranged for the summer..._

 _Death eaters kill the Dursleys…_

 _A meeting at the train platform September 1st…_

 _Tears. Hugs. A kiss on the cheek…_

 _Triwizard…_

 _The goblet of fire…_

 _A desperate plan. Research without telling Harry. A ritual that could cost everything but save Harry..._

 _A drawing…_

 _I love him…_

 _Worth any risk. A plan..._

 _Room of requirement. Runic shapes. Incantations. Power. Blood. Summoning…_

 _Darkness…_

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As the last of Hermione's memories played out in her mind's eye, Arinthalasa could feel cold anger rising in her. What this child has gone through! She couldn't help marvel at the girls plan and bravery in implementing it. Hermione is leaned forward, head almost touching the ground. Arinthalasa has to suppress her feelings of guilt at what she just put the child through. Reliving one's entire life in minutes is traumatic to say the least, but Arinthalasa needed to know what she was dealing with and Hermione would recover.

Organizing her thoughts Arinthalasa made a preliminary list of tasks to be accomplished, starting with dealing with a certain white haired, meddling headmaster and his blasted tournament. Followed by a potion master who was going to find out that abusing children was never a good idea with Arinthalasa around. She would then deal with the demon who called himself Voldemort, she snorted internally at the thought of using the honorific "lord" in association with Riddle. Arinthalasa had destroyed real darklords, and Riddle didn't qualify. Finally, there was something strange about Harry's aura that Arinthalasa couldn't quite discern in Hermione's memories. It looked like a weak possession in the memories, which seemed unlikely but nevertheless she would find out soon enough when she met the boy.

At this point she could see Hermione starting to pull herself together so she tentatively reached out and rubbed the girl's back in what she hoped was a soothing manner. With a sigh she spoke.

"I'm sorry," and she truly was. "I know that was painful for you but I needed to know." She paused considering the girl. "I want you to know that I'm impressed. You and your boy love have done well all things considered, and with remarkably little help from the adults and leaders surrounding you." Arinthalasa's Face darkened in annoyance. "Something I plan on changing very soon."

At Arinthalasa's words, Hermione's head snapped up, her brown eyes holding such hope. "You mean you will help us?" She blurted, as if she couldn't believe the words. When Arinthalasa nodded her head in confirmation the girl shot forward like a bolt of lighting and captured Arinthalasa in a crushing hug.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Hermione said over and over half laughing half crying in relief. "You have no idea how hard it's been trying the help Harry with all of this!" The girl considered her statement for a moment. "Or perhaps you know exactly how hard it's been considering." Her face became pensive, "You won't tell Harry what you saw will you? About my life before Hogwarts, and how… how I feel about him will you?"

Arinthalasa considered her words, "Hermione, I would never betray your trust like that, your memories are your own to share with who you choose." She sat back slightly then, in order to look the girl in her eyes. "However I think you should tell the boy how you feel, nothing but regret ever came from hiding love. I also think you should tell him about your life before you met him. If anyone could understand I think it would be Harry and it could help you become closer."

Hermione seemed to shrink a little at the thought of sharing those experiences with anyone. She broke away slightly and turned to stare at the far wall considering.

"I'm afraid." She said. "I'm afraid he will think differently of me should he know. I know this is a silly fear but it's a fear nonetheless." She sighed, "I'm also terrified he'll do something drastic to my parents. He... doesn't take people hurting me very well." And her cheeks pinked slightly and her lips turned up slightly in a wry smile Arinthalasa doubted she even knew was there.

"Nor should he." Arinthalasa stated definitively, "He loves you as much as you love him, any fool can see this is true." Arinthalasa clenched a fist in front of her and Triumvirate appeared, the three glowing orbs orbiting above her hand. "I've a mind to punish them myself for their treatment of you." Then in a whispered voice, "It was appalling."

Hermione seemed to shiver with every word Arinthalasa said, drawing further away. In a hushed subdued voice she said. "I know. And what's more I know that _they_ know." She shrugged her shoulders, "I've forgiven them, well mostly at least. And they are my parents… I love them." The girl turned a helpless face to Arinthalasa, tears shining in her eyes. "Please don't hurt them."

Arinthalasa sighed with annoyance, here was just one of the reasons this girl's aura shone so brightly, her capacity for forgiveness. Possibly the most powerful of emotions. If Hermione had forgiven her parents for their treatment who was Arinthalasa to naysay her?

"I understand." She said, then in a definitive voice she added, "But remember to not let anyone treat you like that ever again."

With those words Arinthalasa rose to her feet, summoning her armour and Aether Walker back to her hand.

"Now," The glint in her eyes turned steely. "Let's go talk with your headmaster."

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I couldn't really tell what the old fuckers were saying about me. After being railroaded into a side chamber and having Delacour insult my manhood (to which I had indicated to her that she should go fuck herself), the adults had retired to the other side of the room to debate whether I could actually participate in this travesty. Not that any of the assholes had actually asked me what my preference was. With a huff I turned my glare away from them and back to my fellow students.

Delacour was still glaring at me with thinly veiled contempt while pushing her allure for all it was worth. Poor Diggory was doing his best to not stare at her chest while Krum looked like he was about 30 seconds from dry humping the couch. I really couldn't fathom why she was surprised that I'd answered an insult with an insult. My propensity to escalate confrontations had probably taken her by surprise, as well as the fact that her allure didn't seem to affect me at all, or rather served to annoy me more than anything. Add the fact that since Hermione wasn't present I was free to utilize the more... colorful aspects of my personality and perhaps she could be forgiven for her glare… or maybe just fuck her. I gave her my best conceited smirk and a one finger salute which served to piss her off even more, go figure.

Again, since Hermione was off doing Hermione like things to save my sorry ass I didn't need to worry about bruising her delicate sensibilities with my language. Foul language seemed to make her uncomfortable, really uncomfortable, so I had stopped cursing in her presence altogether long ago. I honestly thought I would rather lose a finger then make the girl uncomfortable. And Merlin help anyone else that made her uncomfortable in my presence. Most of the school with some notable exceptions had also learned to not make Hermione uncomfortable… ever. I had my suspicions as to why she was so opposed to bad language. I was thinking that it had something to do with her home-life but I wasn't sure. I was convinced that not all was well with her and her parents but I didn't have any proof and asking her about it was a one way ticket into the doghouse so yeah, fuck that. I'd resolved to just keep my eyes open and murder them both if they hurt her… I'm not entirely sure my attitude was healthy in this area but I couldn't bring myself to care.

Feeling an inordinate amount of satisfaction at successfully pissing off the French bird, I strolled over to one of the overstuffed couches opposite the other champions and settled down to wait. Before tearing out of the great hall Hermione had informed me in no uncertain terms to agree to nothing, sign nothing, and say nothing other than to refuse participation until she returned. If life had taught me anything to this point, it was to listen to Hermione Granger when the shit was going down. And the shit was going down right now.

Before she had left, and directly after Dumbles had pulled my name out of the proverbial hat, she had grabbed my arm preventing me from moving and got that look she gets sometimes when she's really thinking hard. I'm not afraid to admit that I find it damn sexy and whether the girl knows it or not, she is seriously hot.

Seriously. Hot.

Not that I would expect her to ever notice me in that way. I'd accepted a long time ago that I was fundamentally broken and flawed in ways that would never be repaired. I was violent, crass, rude, and an incurable smart ass. Dealing with emotions made me want to throw up in my mouth and hurt someone. Hermione on the other hand was kind, compassionate, beautiful, a genius, and an all around wonderful person. I'd decided long ago that I would see her married off and happy if it were the last thing I did. And if that douche-bag ever hurt her I'd be there to rain bloody murder down on their head until they wished they were never born.

I brought that train of thought to a screeching halt with a sigh… violence, I just liked it. It solved so many problems... I was also sure this was not a healthy attitude but again could not bring myself to care. Looking down I'd noticed that there were burn marks on the couch where i'd been gripping it… this tended to happen when I thought about Hermione being married off to someone…

With a growl I rose from the couch, I was annoyed I'd ruined more furniture thinking about Hermione being with someone else. I knew I had no claim on her, and that she deserved someone not broken like me. In fact, most of the Gryffindor common room had been replaced within the last two years due to this phenomenon. I simply couldn't help it, it made me so angry! I settled for pacing angrily in front of the couch, alternating my glare between the old bastards and Delacour and her hangers on.

This went on for an indeterminate amount of time during which I became more and more anxious about Hermione. I could feel in my guts that something was going on with her but I couldn't imagine what she was up to. After angsting for a while, I resolved to just trust her - like always. I was broken out of my musing by a large bang and assorted screams emanating from the great hall. I could see all the occupants of the room look up at the same time, then Dumbledore moved with alacrity toward the doorway leading to the common room.

I smirked. This had Hermione's name all over it and I found myself looking forward to seeing how whatever she had planned played out. You would think the assholes running this place would have figured out not to fuck with the girl by now. I followed rubbing my hands together and giggling maniacally - unhealthy behavior number three.

I could hear raised voices as I approached the doorway. One of the voices seemed to exude power and dominance, while at the same time being feminine and alluring. I passed the threshold into the great hall and witnessed a sight I never thought to see. Dumbledore was being held away from the ground by some unseen force while a… goddess, for lack of a better term berated him for all of his failings with regard to myself and Hermione. The manic grin on my face just continued to grow as I listened to the diatribe. I cast my eyes around looking for my girl, and found her behind and to the side of the woman holding sway over Dumbledore.

I made my way over to Hermione with what I'm sure was a look of awe on my face. Hermione probably thought I was in awe of the woman/goddess, which was probably reasonable, but really I was in awe of her. That she went and found this… person, just for me, made my insides squicky in a way I couldn't quite define.

After a time I heard the woman/goddess demand to see the goblet. It was brought forth and she glared at it for a moment before it simply… melted. As the goblet slagged into a pile of goo on the floor I could feel something in my chest pull for a moment and then snap. I felt suddenly lighter.

The woman/goddess then turned her attention to me. Her hawk like gaze swept the room until her viridescent eyes settled on me. She stared at me for what seemed like hours, then her eyes widened slightly and she sent a glare at my scar like none I'd ever experienced. With a muttered word her hands were filled with an incredible wand and some kind of rainbow, rotating ass-balls that radiated power. I realized with a flash of fear that she was pointing her wand at me while speaking some kind of incantation. I instinctively pushed Hermione out of harm's way and grasped at my wand hoping I could get a shield up but knowing it was far too late to defend myself. I cursed my luck and gave a final prayer that Hermione live a happy and safe life then closed my eyes. There was a blinding flash, which I saw even with my eyes closed, then a sharp pain in my head and followed by the blackness of oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2 Refugee

_Note: After reading a few Harry Potter/Worm cross over stories I had this idea pop into my head. It's kind of dark and angsty, as well as ignoring HP cannon and probably the same for Worm._

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 _The fire raged._

 _Heat so intense that Hermione could smell the acrid stink of her hair burning. She attempted, again, to get to her feet but her badly broken ankle collapsed under her causing her to fall in a heap and grit her teeth in agony. She looked up at the burning building and could see the demonic faces in the cursed fire that was quickly consuming everything in its path. She was crying, her tears vaporizing instantly on her scorched face._

 _They had gotten the alert in their bedroom. The shrill alarm waking them both from a light sleep having just drifted off. Harry had practically fallen from the bed in surprise at the sound, his wand already in his hand. A moment to clear their thoughts then they had shared a look as Harry's face had contorted in anger._

" _It's Potter House," he'd said._

 _The orphanage had been Harry's idea after the war. So many of the muggle born had lost their parents to the violence that Harry had decided to found Potter House in order to help kids with no place else to go. With the Black fortune at his disposal he had found it trivial to finance the project, and within months of the wars end construction had started. By a year after the war Harry had managed to find every magical orphan in the country and move them all to Potter House. Between Harry, the house elves, and several staff members the children were well taken care of. Spoiled even if she were being honest._

 _It was the happiest that Hermione had ever seen him._

 _Perhaps it was seeing him happy, or watching him throw himself heart and soul into a project to help children, but Hermione had found her feelings for her best friend start to change. Hermione had always found Harry fanciable, but had never felt that rush when looking into his eyes like she had with certain other boys and then men in her life. She had always thought of Harry as more of a sibling than anything else, but watching him work with the children and staff at Potter House, and seeing the genuine joy in his face while doing so, had woken feelings in her that she never knew were there. Suddenly he was in her every thought and even a light touch on the arm or casual hug could drive her to distraction._

 _For a while she tried to hide how she was feeling, pretend everything was normal, hoping her feelings would pass. This became increasingly difficult when Harry insisted on hiring her to oversee management of the Potter and Black estates (at an obscene salary to boot). He claimed that while he loved working with the children, actually running the business and political side of two huge estates required quote "The smartest person I know, so sorry but you're it."_

 _Once Hermione started spending every day at Potter House she realized she was going to need to have a conversation with Harry, and soon. She felt that once she told him what she was feeling, that he would let her down easy and they could go back to being just best friends again once she knew that her feelings would never be returned. She just needed to find the courage to talk to him about it._

 _She could not have been more wrong._

 _She would never forget the look on his face when she told him. He had been preparing for a blind date with some witch that an acquaintance had set him up with. Hermione had been a mess all day, arguing with herself as to if she should or shouldn't tell him how she was feeling before his date. She had forgotten three appointments and then ran herself into a wall attempting to overhear Harry talk to his date via the flu network. After helping her up and checking her for a concussion Harry had had enough._

" _Hermione you need to tell me what's going on. You've been out of sorts all day." he'd said with that infuriating little half smile he sometimes wore, the wanker. He took her hands, sitting her down on the office couch, "Please, tell me what's going on with you."_

 _He had such an honest concern on his face that Hermione was momentarily overcome with tender feelings for him. She took a deep breath, gathered her Gryffindor courage, and blurted out, "I think I'm in love with you!" and then let out an unladylike "eep" and covered her mouth with both hands in horror._

 _For his part, Harry had looked at her with wide eyes and his jaw practically on the floor for several moments as he tried to work out the meaning of the words she had just uttered. After the initial shock she watched as his eyes took on a steely determination, and then dare she say, a smoldering desire she had been dreaming to see directed at her._

" _Oh thank Merlin!" he muttered an then he was kissing her._

 _He was kissing her and it was better than even her dreams had been. The world melted away and some time later they had wound up sans clothing, wrapped around each other, on the very same couch. Harry had missed his date but judging from the goofy grin on his face he hadn't cared at all._

 _Several months later he had proposed, and several months after that they had been married in a small ceremony held in the Hogwarts fields near the forbidden forest. Hermione Jane Granger became Hermione Jane Potter and she didn't think she could have ever been happier._

 _Life went on, and they threw themselves into Potter House and the difficult job of helping muggle born children acclimate into the magical world. Soon they were talking about starting a family of their own and in fact had just made their first incredibly pleasurable attempt at such on that terrible night when the alarm went off._

" _It's Potter House." Cold dread had sunk into Hermione's bones when Harry had said those words._

 _Soon they were both scrambling for clothes and Harry had grabbed her hand and apparated them both to the lawn in front of Potter House._

 _What followed was a nightmare._

 _They both recognized Fiendfyre when they saw it. The demonic flames had started at the north end of the building and were moving quickly. Dead house elves and staff members were strewn on the lawn, obvious victims of spell fire. Just as they both processed this information Hermione was hit in the ankle with some kind of bone breaking curse, shattering most of her ankle and lower leg. The events that followed were blurry for several minuets but she was fairly sure that Harry cleared the area of enemies with extreme prejudice._

 _The next thing she knew, Harry had carried her away from the building, told her to stay put and then she watched her love run into a building being consumed by Fiendfyre to try and save children. He apparated out holding burned children, always going back to try and save more. Each time he returned he was more and more burned, more and more injured. Before he left her for the last time he had took her head in his hands gently kissed her lips and told her he loved her more than anything. She watched him once again disappear into the flaming house._

 _Then Potter House exploded._

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Hermione Potter, widow, witch, and dimensional refugee woke from the nightmare screaming her dead husbands name, covered in cold sweat, and crying just as she always did when she was visited by that particular memory. Even all these years later.

She took some time to try and get her breathing and heart rate under some semblance of control and to wipe her tears away on the blanked. A glance at the clock showed that is was just past four in the morning but she knew there would be no more sleep this night.

Groaning and dragging herself out of her bed she stumbled to the shower and went about waking herself and making herself presentable. Today was her first day at her new job after all.

It had taken some time after she arrived in this new dimension to figure out what she wanted to do. Eventually, and after much soul searching, she decided that she wanted to teach. It had been a small task for her to gain the proper credentials. As far as she could tell she was the only real mage on the entire planet, and she was overqualified for the job. All it took is some forged records and a few simple obliviate charms, and she was a fully accredited teacher.

Finding a job had been tougher.

This earth was in the middle of a full blown economic depression, so jobs in general were very hard to come by. She could also never have brought herself to stay in England. There were too many memories both good and bad for that to be an option for her. She had finally settled on migrating to the United States.

The US was far enough from her memories, and had ample opportunities if you went to the right areas, to find teaching jobs. She also like the idea of helping undeserved youth. She thought Harry would approve.

After her morning absolution's she made herself a light breakfast with tea, and then dressed herself smartly in a nice Gryffindor red sweater and dark slacks. She had considered leaving her hair down but her curls seemed especially unruly today and so she had opted for a tight bun held together by one of her many smaller wands.

She observed herself in the bathroom mirror with a critical eye. She still looked the same as she did at 19, even as she closed in on her thirtieth birthday. Her clothing hid her many scars but she imagined she could still see the jagged scar on her chest or the hated word carved into her arm. Harry had always been so good at making her believe she was beautiful, but without him all these years her old insecurities had stormed back with a vengeance. She just couldn't see herself how Harry had seen her, as a beautiful, desirable woman. To Hermione's eyes she looked like a plain girl with bad hair that was trying just a little to hard. With a sigh she decided it was as good as it was going to get and turned away.

She headed out to her small desk in the living room and decided to review her class notes and student records again. Since she was coming in mid-year, she wanted to make sure she was up to speed on all of her students. Several had interesting academic and behavioral records. She could speculate that some of these students experienced huge life-changing challenges, causing a precipitous drop in achievement. Other causes could include drugs, gangs, bullying or any number of issues. Hermione looked forward to trying to help these kids.

Several house later she found herself welcoming her first group of the day to her classroom for sophomore algebra. Hermione stood near her desk at the front of the room and welcomed each student or group of students into the class, mentally counting as they came in. It was also entertaining to observe their reactions to her English accent.

When she reached 34 students the influx stopped and the bell rang. She was several students short but she supposed there could be stragglers.

Sure enough, just as she was about to introduce herself a girl entered the room late.

She was tall, with long curly black hair that spilled out around the hooded sweatshirt she was wearing. Her jeans looked two sizes bigger than she needed and her trainers we ratty, with tape on the toe of her right foot. She had a beat up backpack slung over one shoulder and didn't say anything to Hermione as she walked in and surveyed the room. She moved toward one of the nearest empty seats, avoiding getting close to as many people as she could. Her posture was hunched and she didn't make eye contact with anyone. Hermione couldn't see much of her face but thin lips and some rather large glasses.

Warning bells were going off in Hermione's head as she remembered another young person, with green eyes, who had similar body language so long ago. After they had been together for a few months, Harry had finally managed to unburden himself of what had gone on at the Dursley's as he grew up. Hermione remembered it as the moment when Harry had finally decided he could trust her with his whole self. She still considered it one of her proudest moments. The stories however... Well to say she had been furious on his behalf was tantamount to saying the sky was blue. Unfortunately the Dursley's were already long dead so it wasn't as if she could hunt them down an claim bloody vengeance, much as she want to.

The girl in the hoodie looked an awful lot like an abused Harry Potter to her eyes.

Hermione introduced herself to the class and then took roll, taking note of the girls name. Hermione had always had a prolific, near eidetic memory so all the relevant information on the girl shot through her mind's eye in an instant. This was one of the students that she had been most curious about.

The girl had been a middle school phenom. At the top of her class in all subjects. In fact she could have easily qualified for a performance based scholarship to the selective Arcadia High School across town. Some of her middle school teachers had gone so far as to write letters of recommendation to the school board.

On preliminary university exams at the beginning of freshman year, she had scored in the 98th percentile and her initial high school performance was exemplary, but soon her performance began to lag and then tank completely. Late or missing assignments, truancy, multiple detentions and several write ups for behavior related issues. By the end of her freshman year she was near to failing most of her subjects. Only her above average test scores were keeping her afloat and Hermione had made note that some of the staff had accused her of cheating but hadn't been able to prove anything.

This year had been much the same with only the girl's test scores keeping her just barely passing.

The class passed quickly for her as she fell into the groove of sharing knowledge with others. She watched the girl throughout noting that she never interacted with anyone or attempted to answer a question during the lecture. There were several other students that she wouldn't even look at.

Yes, Hermione told herself, she would find a way to help Taylor Herbert if it was the last thing she did.


End file.
